


Life is a Pile of Unicorn Shit

by Kitsunechan (orphan_account)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Allan is not a morning person, Bobby has a shitty backstory, Cupcakes, Cussing, Marshmallows, Mood Swings, Naomi is a bitch, Some feels, Stabbing, Steam Powered Giraffe (Band), WTF is tagging, angry cats, even more stuff, even people like Allan cry sometimes, flyswatters, puppy dog eyes, some violence, sugary coffee
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-12
Updated: 2015-07-31
Packaged: 2018-04-04 03:28:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4124056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Kitsunechan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Life might as well be a pile of Unicorn shit," Bobby mumbled, his voice muffled by Allan's shoulder.<br/>"Sparkly and rainbow on the outside, really motherfucking shitty inside." He sighed mournfully, pulling away to face Allan with a sad smile.<br/>"But we try to live it the best we can."</p><p>(PLEASE DON'T READ THIS THIS FUCKING SUCKS AND I JUST DON'T HAVE THE HEART TO DELETE IT)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Meet the Main Characters

**Author's Note:**

> Don't worry, this is only the first semi-chapter. There will be more, I promise!

Naomi- 16

She is, to put it bluntly, stuck up. She has blonde hair (with a dyed pink bangs and underneath of her hair is pink too), blue eyes, and a penchant for aggravating the absolute fuck out of the boys. She might as well be supreme leader of the bathroom, because God, she even created a schedule for the damn thing. She owns about thirteen different hair products, not including accessories. She is mostly (for lack of better term), a bitch, but she can sometimes manage to quit being such an ass and be nice. She's prone to having emotional breakdowns when she's stressed, and the boys deal with it actually pretty well. (Save for... ehrm... some violence)

Bobby- 15

He's the more.... uhm.... dangerous, of the whole group. He has sandy blonde hair, mismatched eyes, (one emerald green, the other kind of purplish ) and a knack for random fits of rage and depression, mostly (keyword mostly) because he's both bipolar and a paranoid Schizophrenic. He yells, a lot, and is often referred to sounding like "a motherfucking air horn screaming into a Goddamn megaphone while Cockatoos screech in the background." He usually hits other people in his periods of anger, only to feel like the world's biggest douchecanoe later on. He, sort of like Naomi, might as well be supreme leader of the fucking refrigerator, even if he eats almost nothing at all. He's kinda like the mentally unstable little brother of the whole lot, so Allan thinks.

Allan- 17

He is probably the only sane one out of the three of them. He has black hair, chocolate brown eyes, (Bobby swears they see into his fucking soul) and is, like mentioned earlier, probably the only sane person out of the three of them. He is basically the one who keeps everyone's shit together, and kinda like their dad, makes sure they don't try to fucking kill each other. (that has happened on multiple occasions) He is usually pretty calm and collected, but sometimes he'll just plain flip his shit and go batshit crazy on the whole house. He tends to beat on Bobby when he's like this, then stomp out to God knows where. (He always comes back with cupcakes, though)

These assholes are not perfect, (hell, far from it) but they're all they've got. So, they learn to cope with the others, and fuck if they don't basically grow on Allen. Fuck perfect families, friends, and other shit. These idjits got each other.

 


	2. Allan- Deal With the Younger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY JESUS I AM SO SORRY FOR UPDATING SO LATE!!!!! But yeah, I may or may not be able to update 4 awhile after dis.... =_= And yesh, I SHALL INCLUDE ALL OF THE REFRENCES!!!!

 

    "Alan....!" Said person grumbled, tugging his blanket over his head. He felt a sharp jab in his ribs, and he shot up.

     "What the fuck do y-" He stopped in mid sentence, a bit surprised as to what he saw.

     Bobby was standing over him, eyes bloodshot, his blonde hair looking more like an electrocuted sheep than actual hair. He was breathing heavily, and his eyes darted around like a panicked squirell's. 

     "Their here Allan! Them! Get them OUT!!!" Allan had a feeling Bobby neglected to take his meds. He sat up, placing one hand on the blonde's shoulder.

     "Chill, there's no one here. I promise." Bobby stared at the hand on his shoulder, and Allan watched as his eyes welled up. Shit. 

     "Oh no, your one of them, aren't you?! I can't believe it, I trusted you! I trusted you and your one of them! How could you...?!" He broke down, sobbing silently into the taller (and immensely surprised) boy's shoulder.

     "No, no its okay, it's okay buddy... fuck, I'm still Allan, okay? I'm still the same person. Shh, no, don't cry, kid..." He rubbed the younger's back with one hand, hugging him with the other. Slowly the sobs dissolved into hiccups, they both kind of sat there for awhile.

     "Here, why don't we get you something to drink, huh?" Bobby perked up a bit, pulling away.

     "Hot chocolate?" He asked hopefully, and Allan laughed.

     "Sure, kid. Why not. But lemme get to the bathroom first, okay?" Bobby nodded slowly, and Allan filled out the (He swore he was going to burn the damn thing) sign-in sheet that Naomi insisted on creating. He swiftly entered, pocketing Bobby's usual meds, as well as some sleeping pills, and exited.

     "C'mon, kid," He said softly, taking a dazed Bobby's hand and leading him to the living room. "Let's go."

     

♢<><><><><><><><><><>♢

 

     Naomi awoke to a loud, revibrating bang, as well as the sound of shattering glass. She was half tempted to just roll over and go back to sleep,  but another loud thud and a growly sounding scream (Allan was the only person able to make a scream sound like a disgruntled Grizzly Bear) caused her to sit up, nearly becoming friends with the floor in the most unpleasant of ways, and throw her door open. Only to be met with one of the most weirdly scary sights she had ever seen in her entire life.

    Allan was standing over Bobby, a kitchen knife sticking out of his left shoulder, hands clenched into fists. He had four long, deep cuts in his back, plenty of blood running from each. Blood dribbled from his mouth, and a frying pan rested on the  ground beside his right foot. Bobby was laying on the ground, Allan's left bare foot on his chest, staring at him with a sleepy, yet infuriated expression on his face (how the fuck was that even possible?!). He now had a bloody nose, and a newly blackened eye. A broken coffee mug lay just out of reach from his left hand, and a small puddle of blood was forming from both his nose, and a crack in his skull hidden by his unruly mop of hair.

  Both of their heads whipped in her direction, and Naomi backed up a step. Bobby sluggishly raised an accusing hand at Allan.

     "He... poisoned me... with dis.... stuff...." Naomi raised a skeptical eyebrow  in Allan's direction, and he huffed out a sigh, taking his foot off of the younger boy's chest.

     "His meds, that's it. He saw me put them into his drink. At least he took the fucking sleeping pills..." She took one look at him and facepalmed, for the youngest was now officially passed out. Her eyes flicked back up to the black man's wounds, set her face into a determined expression, and made a decision.

     "I'm driving you assholes to the hospital. But first," she left the room, coming back about a minute later with some towels, dropping them in Allan's arms. "Can't have you two staining the seats, can I?" She was about to pick up Bobby, but she turned back around, taking the towels from their holder once more, and told him to turn around.

     "Don't scream," was the only warning she gave him before she tried to rip the knife from his shoulder, and a very unmanly scream echoed around the neighborhood. 


	3. Receptionist- Deal With Suspicious People

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is what goes through the mind of the receptionist.

The receptionist had seen plenty of strange things in his life, but all of them could be figured out as to how it happened. A worried looking mother whose child has a fork up his nose? He was running with said fork and fell. A young mohawked boy with crushed, mangled legs being carried by his bruised, red-haired older brother? Car crash, boy got the brunt of the damage, and would probably need an amputation. A blonde man in a bomber jacket and glasses proceeds to throw up in the trash while his russain comrade says something about McDonalds? Strange, but most likely food poisoning.  But this time, it was pretty fucking strange, and even harder to explain.

     A large black man, only clad in a pair of burgundy boxer shorts walks in first. Blood is smeared around his upper lip. He turns around to face somebody, and he can now see four, deep cuts that run down his back, bleeding steadily, and a knife (what the fucking fuck?!) that sticks out of his back, half dislodged,  just below his left shoulder blade. He turns back around and looks mildly aggravated. 

     Now there is a blonde boy in his arms. He's mostly limp, but awake, looking around the reception area blearily. He's shirtless, but at least he's dressed in a pair of navy blue pajama pants. His right eye is swollen shut, and on the back of his head, his hair is matted with blood. Dried blood (Jesus, there is lots of blood with this group) is caked around his nose, only a small trickle is still flowing. A large bruise makes a home on his chest. He now looks vaguely frightened and clings to the black man tighter.

     The final person of their group is a blonde woman, wearing a baggy white t-shirt and black sweatpants. There is not a drop of blood on her, and her expression is a mix of  'These two are such assholes', 'Oh God I hope these assholes will be okay', and 'Just imagine what this dude is thinking'. She is now digging in her purse for something.

     As they come closer, the receptionist begins to feel intimidated, the black man is taller than he originally thought and is now staring daggers at him. What if these guys are thugs or something and being wounded was just an act, and the black man was going to stab- 

     He decides to stop his train of thought. Instead, he turns his attention to the blonde boy, who now looks completely terrified. He says something to the black man, who is now close enough so the receptionist can hear it.

     "Is he gonna hurt me...? If he's one of them he's gonna hurt me..." Said the blonde woozily.

     "There is no 'them', okay? And no, he's not going to hurt you, I promise." Assured the other, and then they were finally at the receptionist's desk. He swallowed.

     "Name?" He asked, and was surprised when the woman popped out of nowhere.

     "I'm Naomi, that idiot is Allan," she points to the black man.  "And the other idiot is Bobby," she points to the blonde boy. 

      "I have a feeling Allan is gonna need stitches, and I can't get the knife out without hurting him too badly. Bobby needs his crazy person meds, and he may or may not have a concussion. I just know their both bleeding, and I'm out of towels."

     The receptionist proceeds to get them a room, and after all is said and done, he ponders on what the fuck he just saw at four in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, it's been like 3 years since I've been in a hospital, so please correct me if I screw up.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like this, or any of the other chapters, thank Baconatore. That's the one who made this possible.  
> (And they helped me understand this annoying, yet epic, site.)


End file.
